Stars in the Sky
by VVPotter
Summary: After the war, the Golden Trio returns to Hogwarts for their 7th year alongside others who didn't get to finish their education. Hermione is trapped in an abusive relationship with Ron, and uses Draco to forget her pain. Everything seems hopeless, until Fred Weasley comes along. Eventual Hermione/Fred. TRIGGER WARNING: Domestic Abuse, Self Harm, Alcohol Abuse
1. Chapter 1

_/ So this is the start of a story I've been thinking about for a little while. I'm not sure if I'll continue it or not, so please let me know what you think about it._

 _TRIGGER WARNINGS: DOMESTIC ABUSE, SELF-HARM, ALCOHOL ABUSE_  
 _(none will be explicitly described as events but will be commented on/mentioned/insinuated/etc.)_ /

She loved him, but he took her stars out of the sky.

She was never one to talk about herself, never one to brag. But even she couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that she got some sort of perverse satisfaction from being the smartest witch in the room.

And he got a perverse satisfaction from taking away her will until she could no longer think for herself, until he was the only one that mattered, until he could completely and irrevocably control her.

Well, maybe not quite irrevocably. She was so attuned to his every move, so used to his various outbreaks, that she accepted them and even embraced them as a part of who he was – a part of someone whom she convinced herself that she had fallen in love with. He would treat her with such reverence when he was around her that she couldn't help but adore him. He was so sweet when he caressed her face before they kissed and when he told her that he loved her. He was so nice when he mentioned that other girls were coming onto him and that he's loved others before. He was so caring when he had sex with her and then left as soon as he finished.

Right?

It might be more accurate to say that even though he took her stars out of the sky, he was the one who put them there in the first place.

At least she was convinced.

Everyone said she was so smart.

Everyone.

No one would expect her to fall into something so deeply without any thought for what could potentially happen.

No one would expect that she, a known to be strong-willed woman, would allow someone to treat her the way he had.

No one would expect that of Hermione Granger.

And no one would expect that of Ronald Weasley.

But certainly no one would expect Fred Weasley to end up in the middle of all of it, of so large and elaborate a secret that even Harry Potter was not aware.

It was in her seventh year that everything went to absolute hell. Hermione, along with her two best friends, had returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in order to actually attend and complete their seventh year after the war. Many other students from their grade returned as well, creating so large a class that they were dubbed 'the eighth year'. Mrs. Weasley had also convinced the twins to return with the eighth year, and by convinced it was a picturesque Sunday morning which involved a lot of apparating and threats with wooden spoons before they finally acquiesced. They did mostly to appease their mother, having already been owners of a highly successful business – they could afford to take a year off after the war while their workers ran the shop.

The eighth years were given special privileges – most if not all of them being of adult age – and were not confined to the castle, and nor were they expected to be in their common room by a specific curfew. They were only expected to attend their classes and have passing marks, otherwise they were given free range of the school. They even had their own common room and bedrooms, each eighth year having their own bedroom as opposed to sharing a room with four other people of the same sex.

It was under these circumstances that Hermione Granger found herself lying on the floor of the astronomy tower looking up at the stars at two in the morning, books laying forgotten next to her and a lit cigarette between her lips. As the smoke curled in the chilly October air away from her warming charm she saw a figure emerge in the opening to the tower. "What are you doing here at this hour, Draco?" She asked without checking to make sure it was him, she just knew.

"The same thing you're doing, I'd imagine, Granger." He replied without missing a beat, letting himself fall onto the floor next to her and swiping a cigarette from the pack somewhere behind her head.

She gave him a wry smile without looking away from the stars, "Contemplating the futility of life?"

He looked at her with a frown, cigarette posed perfectly between his left index and middle fingers. He stuck it between his lips and leaned over her, pressing the end of his unlit cigarette to the end of her lit one, taking a few drags. Her whiskey eyes forcefully concentrated on him and in them he saw her pain. He sighed as it took and he blew a small puff of smoke above her face. "You've let him hurt you again, haven't you?" His voice and body were weary as he lay next to her, allowing her to enter her mind once more.

He didn't miss her slight shiver and the brush of her fingertips on her left shoulder. "I love him." She said simply.

"That's not an answer to my question and you fucking know it." Draco snapped, leaning up on one elbow. He grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her to make eye contact as she flicked the finished cigarette away. "How he treats you is not okay. Our relationship is not okay. None of this is okay, Granger." He shakily took another drag. "We're so fucked up and everything is not okay."

She gave him a watery smile as she trailed her fingertips over his chin. "Who says everything has to be okay?" He closed his eyes and put the cigarette to his lips one last time as she pulled him closer by the back of his neck. "Who says that everything _can_ be okay?" He flicked the butt away - they were so close her lips were brushing up against his. "We make each other forget. That's our thing. Don't ruin it." She kissed him and he exhaled the smoke into her lungs. His gentle hands soothed away the pain of Ron's rough ones as the cancerous toxins ripped through her system like morphine.

Draco and Hermione had developed an odd relationship when he found himself and Blaise as the only two seventh year Slytherins returning after the war. Draco had never truly believed in Voldemort's cause, and his family's efforts in the final battle proved his loyalty enough to Hermione. Regardless of what ended up happening, most of the students were relentlessly cruel to the two until Hermione sat next to them in lunch one day and struck up conversation. She found out she had much more in common with the boy with the platinum hair and tempest eyes than she originally thought. They were both severely fucked up in their own ways. Hermione had allowed Ronald to break her until she knew she didn't love him but was convinced otherwise. Draco had been controlled all of his life until he snapped and took control of the one thing that he could – his own body.

Draco made Hermione forget her bruises and emotional scars. And Hermione made Draco forget the liquor in his closet and the cuts running down his perfect, pale arms.

That was it, they had no real emotion between them beside the kinship of understanding. Both of them knew what it felt like to be blamed for being something that you couldn't help but be, and both of them knew the horrors of the war. They chose to forget their troubles in the form of each other on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night. They cared for each other enough to protect each other from the cruelty of others, to try as hard as they could to ensure that the other didn't have to face any more horror in their life.

That was why Draco sometimes wished Ronald would come up to the astronomy tower one night while they were there, just so he could have the satisfaction of pushing him over. Normally he would care that Hermione was technically cheating on Ron while she was with him, but because he knew what he did to her, and also what he did to other females that Hermione had no idea about, he no longer felt bad about the affair.

When they were satisfied for the night, clothes completely shed and skin glistening in the moonlight and the glow of newly lit cigarettes, someone did stumble upon them.

Unfortunately, it was not Ron – it was Fred Weasley. His eyes were full of mischief that told of pranks to be played on the couple caught.

"Hermione..?" He asked, astounded at first. That wonder soon turned to rage. "Hermione, what the actual fuck is going on here."

She took a drag, not bothering to put anything on while Draco had at least enough decency to quickly throw his underwear back on. "What does it look like, Fred?" She asked through her smoke.

Fred was slowly getting redder and redder, "It looks like you just cheated on my brother – _your boyfriend -_ with Draco fucking Malfoy. Do you have an explanation or should I just go tell everyone right now?"

"Please go tell everyone, Weasley." Draco chuckled, looking up at him for the first time. "It would be a blessing for Hermione if Ronald broke up with her."

"It would be a blessing if I didn't punch you right here and now, Malfoy." Fred spit out at him, glaring for all he was worth.

Draco lowered himself back down to the stone next to Hermione. "Why don't you actually take a good look at her Weasley, and then maybe you'll understand what's been going on."

Fred, infuriated, was hopelessly confused at Draco's wording. "What's _been_ going on?" He mumbled to himself, blue eyes scanning over the naked, and admittedly gorgeous, Hermione. He first looked at her small, perky breasts, like most men would, but he couldn't find any fault with them. As his eyes trailed lower he noticed dark yellowing directly under her breasts that slowly got worse until he saw a large dark purple bruise on her left ribcage from which the surrounding yellowing was coming. He gasped and moved slightly closer, eyes trailing down farther and seeing more yellowing around her thighs – the yellowing of faded bruises, along with a bright purple one on the outside of her right thigh. Her knees were both so badly bruised and scraped up they were unrecognizable as knees. He moved back up to her neck, where he could see faint bruises matching the mark of fingers, another dark bruise had blossomed on her right collarbone and the faded ones continued down her arms where he finally noticed that her hand was in Draco's as she was lightly trembling. When he finally looked at her face her eyes closed quietly as tears started to fall. "Hermione?" He questioned, no longer angry but afraid.

"Now do you realize what your brother's been doing to her? What she's _let_ him to do her?" Draco snapped at him, becoming protective of Hermione very quickly. He looked over at Hermione and knew she needed to go be alone. "C'mon Hermione, let's get dressed and I'll walk you to your rooms."

As they both shuffled into their respective clothing, cigarette butts flicked away into the night, Fred stood there silently. "Malfoy, what happened to your arms?"

Draco froze as he was buttoning up his shirt. "Don't worry about it, Weasley." He glanced at Hermione, who was gathering her things. "Worry about Granger, she's the one who needs it."

Hermione looked up and her eyes flashed. "I'm perfectly fine by myself, Draco."

Draco laughed once without humor. "Yeah, you're not fine until you stop needing me and these," he grabbed her pack of cigarettes, "to forget everything that's hurt you in your life."

She snatched them out of his hand and shoved them into her bag with the rest of her things, face burning. "I'm fine." She insisted.

Hermione rushed out of the tower before either man could get a word in edgewise. Draco looked up at Fred with sad, pleading eyes. "Look, Weasley, I know you owe me nothing, but you've considered that girl to be family for years." He swallowed and looked away for a moment, as if considering what he was about to say. "Just _please_ don't risk _that_ happening again by telling your pig of a brother before we can figure out how to keep her safe."

Fred nodded once, succinctly.

Draco nodded in return before running down the stairs after Hermione, leaving Fred alone in the astronomy tower with nothing but the stars for company. For the first time in his life, Fred looked up and wondered who the hell put them there.

 _/ And that's the end of it for now, please let me know if you're interested in continuing to read!  
As Always –VV /_


	2. Chapter 2

_/ TRIGGER WARNINGS: DOMESTIC ABUSE, SELF-HARM, ALCOHOL ABUSE  
(none will be explicitly described as events but will be commented on/mentioned/insinuated/etc.) /_

"I'm guessing you didn't catch anyone up here then," George said, stepping into the astronomy tower and looking into Fred's pensive ocean eyes. "I just saw Hermione and Malfoy go past, smart of you not to signal me, really. I don't want to be on either of their bad sides – not that Malfoy _has_ a good side." He sauntered over to Fred, nudging him to draw his attention away from the night sky. "What were they doing up here anyway? Took them long enough to leave after you walked in."

Fred sighed, turning and scraping his back against the rough stone wall as he slid to the floor. He contemplated what he _should_ be telling his twin. He told George everything. There were zero secrets between them, ever – even when it was something that the other twin didn't really want to hear about. But… how could he tell George about this? How could he tell George that they failed as friends and older brothers? Hermione saved all their asses in the war, only to be ignored and abused by the people she held close to her. George, sensing that the mood was much more serious than he anticipated, sobered his grin and sat next to Fred, placing a reassuring hand on his knee. After a few more seconds of silence, George probed him, "You didn't… _catch_ …them up here, right?"

Fred clenched his hands into fists until he could feel the bite of fingernails against his palms. "Yes and no." He hunched over, letting the tension out of his body and trailing his finger along the irritated crescent marks on his skin. It was only right for him to tell George everything. "I did _catch_ them up here, George. But apparently a lot more has been going on than any of us knew about," Fred finally admitted, looking up at his twin through ginger fringe, worried for his response.

George's eyes widened at the answer. They flashed in fury briefly before he controlled his expression and shook his head, running a hand through his messy locks. "I'm assuming there's a reason you're not furious that you found Hermione cheating on Ron, then?" He asked with a nervous chuckle.

Fred stalled. "Did you… did you take a good look at her?"

George screwed his face up a little in thought, "Who, Hermione? She ran past me pretty quickly, I only just realized it was her when I saw the back of her head," he answered, words colored with confusion.

"The next time you see her, take a good look at her," Fred replied, shuddering at the memory of Hermione's yellowed bruises and lifeless eyes.

George frowned, becoming irritated with Fred's apprehension to tell him the truth. "What are you talking about, Fred? I know what Hermione looks like."

Fred jumped up, his expression flushed with rage. "I'm telling you to look at her because her eyes look dead, dammit, and Ron's the one that did that to her!" His eyes skittered around the room, panicked, as his mind raced through all the times he should've noticed when something was wrong. He grew more and more manic, eyes flickering back and forth as his thoughts tumbled over one another before he snapped and threw his fist at the stone wall, cursing when he felt his skin split. "Fuck!"

"Shit," George muttered, scrambling to his feet with his wand ready to fix Fred's broken hand. "You know I'm not that good at healing spells, Freddie," He whispered, voice interlaid with concern. He traced Fred's bloodied knuckles, gently repairing the severed skin. "I fixed the cuts, but that's gonna bruise up like a bitch." He let Fred's hand drop as he placed his hands on his twin's shoulders, looking into the identical, drowning eyes. " _Please_ , just tell me what's going on. I've never seen you so worked up about something before," he implored, resting a hand on Fred's cheek so he couldn't turn away.

Fred blinked, George quietly halted the tear's path with a brush of his thumb. "Ron has been beating Hermione, George," he said, voice hoarse with emotion. He ripped himself away from his brother's caress. "He's been beating her and none of us fucking noticed!" He raised his fist to punch the wall again but George was quick to intercept, pulling Fred into his arms as he completely fell apart. "How could we let this happen to her!" he sobbed. "How could we not see that our own brother became a monster to a girl who deserves the world!"

George stood there silently comforting his brother for as long as he needed to, his own tears streaming down his freckled face. "They all changed after we left, Freddie – the _world_ changed. Ron certainly wasn't raised to ever lay his hands on a woman," he sighed, "But who knows – maybe the war affected him more than we thought. How are you so sure that this is happening?" He questioned hesitantly. George hated to doubt his twin, but he couldn't stand to accuse his little brother of something so severe without being absolutely certain it was happening.

Fred sniffed, pulling away as the remnants of his tears dried on his face. "You don't understand; you didn't _see_ her," he intoned, blushing with embarrassment. "She and Malfoy were both…naked…when I got here. She had bruises all over her, some of them looked like they were a week old." George raised his eyebrow as if to imply that's not _all_ Fred saw. Fred reddened even more but continued, "She didn't even bother to cover up when I walked in, it's like she didn't care enough to allow herself that dignity. And she just looked so, defeated, I've never seen that look on Hermione before." He looked down. "At least, I've never _noticed_ before," he finished, speaking to the floor rather than his twin.

George sighed, throwing a brotherly arm around Fred's shoulders. "Of course it's not right that someone's beating Hermione," George replied, eyes flashing, "and I'm going to _fucking murder_ whoever it is – but how do we know that someone is Ron?"

Fred shrugged George's arm off, opting instead to pace the tower to calm his mind. "Malfoy is so protective of her; why would he lie about something like this? And if it wasn't Ron, don't you think Ron would've noticed Hermione's covered in bruises?" Fred asked, shuddering at the thought that Hermione and his little brother had most likely been _intimate_.

George laughed without humor. "As much as I love Ickle Ronniekins, he's not exactly the most observant bloke we know," he stated, crossing his arms defensively. "Besides, she's probably covering them with charms during the day – it would make sense as to why no one apart from Malfoy knows."

Fred halted, another idea suddenly coming to mind. "Really though, if this is happening, why hasn't Malfoy stopped it yet?" Fred questioned, looking at his twin with wide eyes. "All they would have to do is go to a professor and within hours whoever it was would be in custody."

"There has to be more to the story than what we know right now," George said, grabbing Fred's arm and pulling him out of the tower. "We can interrogate Malfoy tomorrow, but for now, we just have to lay low. I'm sure there's a reason no one's said anything yet, and if we want to help Hermione we have to know all the sides of the story, okay?" George stressed, knowing that Fred's big heart and spontaneous attitude might get more than just them in serious trouble this time.

Fred nodded as they walked through Hogwarts' silent halls. "You're right," he agreed, swallowing back more tears. "I just can't bear to think that someone is hurting Hermione and none of us have noticed."

George's eyes hardened in the darkness. "I know, Fred. Me too."

The next morning the twins rose with the sun so they could snag their ideal seats in the Great Hall at the fifth, smaller table designated for the eighth years. Fred and George slid into the seats at the end, hoping everyone would think they were plotting and pass by. They were unusually silent as they ate the miniscule amount of food they could stomach, each bite settling like a rock. They watched as the hall slowly filled up with bleary eyed students, but particularly kept an eye out for their fellow eighth years. Finally, Hermione, Ron, and Harry stumbled in, shortly followed by Malfoy and Zabini.

Malfoy locked eyes with Fred as they passed, eyebrows raised in question. Fred nodded once in assurance, and Malfoy let tension out of his posture he didn't notice was there before. As Malfoy and Zabini slunk into their seats, the twins tried to observe as much as they could surrounding Hermione without coming off as suspicious.

At first glance, everything seemed to be normal. Ron said something that both Hermione and Harry laughed at as they all filled their plates with food. Harry's green eyes shifted into the distance to stare at Ginny, who was taking her seat at the Gryffindor table. She felt his stare and turned to wiggle her eyebrows at him, making his face flush happily as he grinned back at her. While this was happening, Ron was speaking quietly to Hermione, who had a small smile on her face. They were holding hands on the table. Hermione turned to a book as she started to eat while Ron talked quidditch with the nearby boys.

George frowned. "Everything seems to be fine, Fred. Are you sure there's something wrong with them?" he asked, paling in sudden thought. "Maybe Malfoy just made up a lie so you wouldn't tell Ron about the affair."

"Then why the hell does she have bruises all over her?" Fred hissed, leaning forward. He remembered the nature of their conversation and threw up a wandless _muffliato_ with his right hand. "How else would that be explained?" he huffed, sitting back in his seat. "There has to be something we're not seeing." He turned to look at the golden trio again, a glint of determination in his eyes.

Their eyes raked over the scene again, but still, nothing seemed to be out of place. Finally, Fred zeroed in on something out of the ordinary. "The book," he breathed.

"What?" George asked, eyes darting to Hermione's book but clearly not seeing what Fred had.

"Hermione's the smartest witch of our age. She can finish a large tomb in under a day!" Fred exclaimed as quietly as he could within the confines of the spell.

"Yes…and?"

"She's been on the same page for the last five minutes, George. Look at her eyes, they aren't even moving – she's not reading," Fred concluded, face falling as he realized what this meant. This fact _did_ indicate that something was drastically wrong. Hermione read through everything in her life – even when she and Harry and Ron were forced to go hunting for horcruxes.

They looked at her more closely. Her plate, which had been full at the start of breakfast, was oddly portioned, as if someone were silently banishing parts of her meal. Not that it mattered much – they hadn't witnessed Hermione take a bite of anything at all, they only saw her pushing her food around her plate. Her hair, while still wildly curly, seemed uncharacteristically limp and dull. Her skin was paler than the twins were used to seeing it, since Hermione usually spent her summers basking in the sun. Whether her skin was due to stress, a lack of sun, or a poor diet, they weren't sure. She hunched in on herself as if she were trying to climb inside of the book she had open next to her. In fact, everything about Hermione was slightly cowering away from everyone around her, apart from the hand that Ron still held above the table. Her knuckles on _that_ hand were almost white.

Just then, Hermione muttered something to Ron and clearly went to go stand up. Ron's eyes flashed with anger for a brief moment as he halted her escape, before they softened and he spoke to her under his breath. Hermione nodded at whatever he said, causing him to smile at her and kiss her cheek, letting her up from the table. She gave him a small smile in return that was anything but genuine as she scampered out of the hall, looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Fred tried desperately to get her to look at him as she passed, but she averted her eyes as her shoulders sunk even more.

George and Fred looked at each other, "Something's definitely wrong with them," George spoke first. "It looked like Hermione asked him _permission_ to leave…" he trailed off, disgusted at the thought.

Fred's eyes hardened as he clenched his fists. "If he really did that to her, I'm punching his lights out," he affirmed, no argument in his tone. His eyes ghosted over to Malfoy and Zabini. "Maybe Malfoy can give us some answers," Fred said.

"I think he owes us some answers at the least. Let's send him a note," George suggested, getting a quill and a small piece of parchment out.

Early on in their Hogwarts years, the twins developed an untraceable way to send notes in class without being caught – it was out of necessity. Their professors always tended to split them up. George scribbled out a note on the parchment, slid it to Fred for approval, and then waved his hand over the words. They dissolved into the parchment and appeared on the table directly in front of Malfoy.

They knew it had worked because he flinched ever so slightly as his eyes briefly flicked downwards.

 _We need answers. Meet us in the abandoned Charms classroom in 5 minutes. – F &G_

Malfoy nodded once to himself and said a few hurried words to Zabini, who waved him off in favor of enjoying his breakfast and flirting with the girl next to him. He left the hall at a hurried, yet casual, pace, specifically not looking at the twins as he passed.

George dissolved the _muffliato_. "Guess we better go get our answers," he sighed. The twins gathered up their stuff as casually as they could muster, pushing each other here and there for effect as they joked their way out of the hall.

Neither noticed Ron's eyes watching them as they left.

"You'll have to teach me that spell, Weasleys," Draco announced as Fred and George entered the room. His eyes narrowed. "I also thought I told you not to tell anyone, I guess I asked too much of you to keep a secret from your other half," he sneered, gesturing to George with a flip of his hand.

"Oh, calm down Malfoy," Fred replied, throwing his bag on an empty chair as he hopped up on the nearest desk. "George would never do anything to hurt Hermione, and it'll be easier for me to help you both if we're both in on it." His eyes softened after a second. "Really, Malfoy, we want the same thing here – I would never put Hermione in any danger."

Malfoy nodded as he relaxed slightly, Hermione's safety truly was his first priority now. He sighed and leaned up against the professor's desk, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "So what exactly is it that you want to know?" He inquired, icy mask firmly in place. "We don't have much time before classes start."

George held up a hand, "We just want to know one thing, Malfoy. If this is all happening, why hasn't anyone tried to stop it?" Fred and George both leaned forward slightly, as if preparing to attack Malfoy in the case that it was all a lie.

"Because it's not as simple as that sounds, Weasley." Draco replied, rolling his eyes. He got up and started to pace the front of the room, gesticulating wildly. "She won't tell me many details at all, so I barely have a grasp on what's going on – just what I've pieced together myself. I'm assuming the abuse started not long after the final battle. It's been going on for so long that he has Hermione convinced she doesn't deserve anything better, and I know whenever she manages to get enough strength to fight back, he just threatens the people she cares about until she backs down." He took a large breath, as if debating something, stopping directly in front of them. "I know she hasn't told you this, but she found her parents after the war."

Fred gasped, jumping up from the desk. "What? Why wouldn't she say anything? We were all under the impression that she was still looking for them!" He exclaimed, feeling his mind reeling again after everything he was hearing.

Malfoy locked onto Fred's expressive blue eyes with his emotionless ice ones. "She didn't say anything because they're dead. The death eaters hunted them down while she was on the run, and she blames herself for it."

George sucked in a breath. "So that's why this is happening. She's just let so many things pile on top of her and now she's drowning." He shook his head, trying to get to the heart of what they were asking. "This still doesn't explain why you aren't helping her out of this."

Malfoy leaned up against the desk again and put his head in his hands, defeated. "I'm helping her as much as I can. That's still Hermione, just as stubborn as ever. She'll hex me if I try to do anything because she's worried Ron will take out his anger on someone other than her. Even if we got Ron away from her she would still be completely broken." He swallowed nervously, turning away from the twins. "And I'm worried about what she'll do to herself if we let that happen."

Fred stepped forward to reach out to him, eyes kind. "You mean like those marks on your arm, Malfoy?" He asked gently.

Malfoy's eyes snapped up as he yanked his schoolbag from the ground. "I'm not a part of this, Weasley! Do not drag me into it." He stormed over to the door and ripped it open, pausing in the doorway. "We need to build her up again, to get her to see that she deserves more and that _scumbag_ doesn't have any power over her. If we just get him sent to Azkaban right now, knowing her, she'll blame herself for it even though he deserves it." He looked over his shoulder directly at Fred. "And you don't want her to think she's responsible for tearing a hole in your family when they already almost lost you."

With that, Malfoy left, leaving Fred and George with an uneasy feeling settling between them.

George turned to Fred, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, "So what did you mean when you asked about the marks on Malfoy's arm?" he asked, attempting to diminish the uncomfortable thickness in the air that was a result of the reminder of Fred's near-death.

Fred sighed, collecting his bag. "Malfoy needs help too, even though he won't admit it," he answered, not knowing how to explain his concern for the Slytherin properly.

"So, what are we going to do about it?" George wondered, shouldering his bag as they left for Potions.

Fred shrugged. "I'm not really sure at the moment." He turned to his twin and gave him a small, depressed smile. "But I'm sure we'll think of something."

 _/The updates aren't really on a schedule as of right now, but I'm trying to get the chapters out quickly for the couple of you that are watching the story (thank you guys!). I'm sorry the chapters are a bit on the shorter side, once I'm completely finished I'll probably combine some of them to make it easier to read.  
As Always – VV/_


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